


Pretend

by TheCuddleMonster



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Future, Canon Divergent, F/F, aint no conflict, aint not plot, its fluff, sweet Lexa alive and well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 14:38:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14191179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCuddleMonster/pseuds/TheCuddleMonster
Summary: Clarke and Lexa spend some time imagining what their life could have been like.





	Pretend

**Author's Note:**

> I continue my mission to write senseless fluffy garbage with no plot or conflict proving once again my ineptitude as a writer.

It’s early enough in the year that the morning sun is still pale and not hot enough to revert the chill of winter’s waning breath. 

A once fluffy and even coat of snow hardens into dirty, lumpy piles of ice exposing the roots and stalks of the Earth's most resilient greens.The first signs of spring sprout eager to meet the sun and they are happily welcomed by the early risers of a long winter sleep. 

But the majority of the forest only jostles. Then falls back to sleep until all that is left of winter are the deep puddle made from the tears of melting snow

In the middle of the dormant forest a city finds itself equally sedated. Few of its countless people busy the cold, stone streets. Out only if the have to be. 

Vendors touting their wares to the marketplace. A soldier patrolling the streets. The rest of the city dwellers are buried under their covers.

At the heart of that city its helm and her own heart lie awake. And their laughter floats easily into the morning air. 

“I wish you would spend more of your time naked.” Clarke’s hands travel across Lexa’s chest peppered, like the rest of her, by papery scars here and there, and embellished with black strokes of ink. She is much softer than Clarke never imagined a warlord might be. 

“Mmh.” Lexa smiles at the touch but her eyes are still pleasantly heavy. 

Clarke’s fingers loiter around the delicate skin of one scar in particular. It seems almost unimpressive in comparison to some of her others. 

This one is small and almost evenly circular. Where the others are jagged and long. One she has on her back from her shoulder to her hip collected on one of the first battlefield she’d stepped foot on. Another across the collarbone from a failed assassination. The ones on the palm of her hand that Clarke watch Roan cut into her. Many from childhood. From falls and from sparing from living her life in service to her people. 

Very few of those scars came from wounds that could have killed her. Fewer still that nearly did. 

She remembers how the unsuspecting little scar looked as a gaping wound draining Lexa of her blood and the life from her eyes. Eyes that she had looked into and seen nothing but vibrance and life not an hour before. 

Every pass of her thumb over the smooth skin, thin and delicate, reminds her of the pain she felt in her own belly when she pulled the bullet out of Lexa’s 

She is well aware that safety on the ground is an oasis she cannot louge in forever. She wants to be calm like Lexa. She wishes she was. Take each brush with death as life’s too aggressive reminder that time is precious and very much limited. But that time Lexa had knocked too loudly on deaths looming door. 

“Here.” Lexa whispers only loud enough to drag Clarke from the depths of her spiral. Lexa covers Clarke’s hand with her own. Gives it a squeeze the moves them firmly onto her chest. Pressing Clarkes palm firmly against her ribs. 

Lexa’s heartbeat is as strong and unwavering as Lexa herself. Feeling it soothes her own aching heart. 

“Because of you. I am alive. And though I can not promise to live forever. Until it beats no more my heart is entirely yours.”

“I love you.”

“An Ai yu, hodness.” 

“Wanna know what I’m thinkin ‘bout?” Clarke rolls onto her side, her hand still on the Commander’s heart. 

“Do I?”

“Remember what Ally showed us in the City of Light.”

She lets out a slow breath. “Is that what you wish our life was like?”

“No. But sometimes I like to pretend. Sometimes. Right when I’m about to wake up I like to think about you. In jeans and a button down.”

“I still think I would be a little more hardened.”

“You were there. You saw. Lexa the teacher. Nice, beautiful, sweet, and safe teacher. The only danger you need to worry about is getting the flu. And whether or not Tommy did his homework.”

Lexa chuckles at the memories of a life she would never have but held memories of like the day she lived yesterday. “I think about it too. Sometimes.” 

Clarke listens to her breathe. “Yeah.” 

“What else?”

“Hhm?”

“What else do you think about?”

“I think about how pretty you would look holding our baby. Our babies. Some of them would have your eyes. Some of them would have my hair. Some of them wouldn’t look anything like us. We’d bring them home. But they would all be ours.”

“How many kids do we have?”

“Nine.” Clarke laughs. It’s a mess. We’re a mess.”

“How do we have sex with that many kids in a 1 bedroom apartment.”

“Lexa we obviously have to move. Out of the city. All those kids. They’re gonna want dogs and a yard. A pool, a treehouse, you know, the works. We’ll be too busy for sex”

Lexa groans. “One dog.”

“Two little ones.”

Lexa rolls her eyes. “I want a motorcycle.”

 

“So you can crack your head open and leave me a single mother to eleven kids. I don’t think so.”

“When did we get 2 more kids?”

“The dogs, Lex.”

“No sex. No motorcycle. But two dogs. Give me something Clarke.”

“You can get a bicycle.” 

“I want sex. One dog. And I’ll ride on the back of Anya’s motorcycle.” 

Clarke scrunches up her face like she’s pretending to think about it, but can’t hide her smile. “Deal.”

Lexa beams back at her, content. “Aunt Anya.” She leans back into her pillow and breathes out, Clarke still nuzzled into the crook of her arm. She thinks of her mentor fondly. There was a time where thoughts of the woman who had been like a mother to her burned a hole in her heart but now the dull, longful ache is well worth the warm fondness that hums through her. 

“And Granmpa Jake. I wish he could have lived to see this. He could have never imagined you were down here sustaining a whole city. I think he might have crashed the Ark himself if he’d have known.” Clarke sits up. “If he saw all these people I think he would have cried.” 

“I wish I could give that to you.” Lexa’s smile falls for the first time that morning. The jade fields in her eyes whiter into storm clouds.

“Lexa you give me everything I need."

A harsh knock on the door startles them. Lexa sighs.

Clarke pushes away as the Commander sit up against their headboard. “Enter.”

“Lexa.” A familiar voice softens Lexa’s stealy fasade. “I brought you breakfast.” Wheat colored hair pokes through the doorway.

“Aden. Come in.” 

He walks in balancing a tray too full of food. He’s obviously made good with someone in the kitchen because he has more than the normal amount of breakfast rations would allow. 

“Good morning, Clarke.” 

Clarke had made eight very loyal young friends when she stood between the Nightbloods and Ontari the day Azgeda came to Polis. None more so than Aden who had fought by her side to protect his younger siblings. 

“Morning, Aden. We were just going to get up.”

“You’ve come to bribe me. Here I was thinking you enjoyed my company.” 

“I do. I came to share my delicious breakfast, that I made myself, with my two favorite people.”

He places the tray on her lap and walks over to pull the curtains away from one of her windows. 

Lexa studies her pupil suspiciously as he pretends to wrestle with the curtains. But Clarke is happy to have her share of the fruits in front of them. They’re still not quite sweet but after a lifetime of a vegan diet she much prefers them to the strong tastes of smoked or salted meats. 

“It’s getting warmer out.” He hums leaning some of his weight against the pane. When Lexa doesn’t answer he presses bravely on. “That pond behind the southern wall must be all melted by now.”

“Must it be?” Lexa watches the boy squirm with half a smile only Clarke can see.

“Don’t be mean, Lexa. Let them go play.” Clarke says around a mouthful of her breakfast. 

Aden beams at her toothy and wide. And young. 

“Is that what you were getting at?” Lexa chooses a thick strip of bacon for herself.

“Well we were thinking if you weren’t busy you could come swim with us? Maybe.”

Clarke knows as well as Aden that Lexa is never too busy to indulge her nightbloods. No matter how much she hates ‘that filthy, little puddle.’ “Alright she concedes. Meet me downstairs. I’ll join you once I’ve finished my breakfast.”

He’s bolting down the hall before she has the good sense to change her mind. Too excited to maintain the pretense that he came here to do anything more than ask for recess. 

“See, I already have everything I want, Lexa.” Clarke lays her hand on Lexa’s. “The kids. A big house. A pool sort of.” they laugh "Well almost everything." 

“If you really want one, I’m sure I could find you a dog.”

“Let’s go take care of the kids. Then we can talk about my two big dogs.” Clarke gets out of bed with her fruit bowl in hand. She heads to the back room where they keep their wash basin and clothes. 

“I thought we agreed to one small one.” Lexa calls after her imagining how she will explain the dogs to Titus.

**Author's Note:**

> So remember when Ally used Raven to mess with everyone and she was shook by how affected shw was when she mentioned Lexa. Well if the writers weren't dumb they'd have done something with that. So I imagine that Ally showed Clarke a life where she and Lexa aren't always about t die. And that's what they talk about.
> 
> Anyhow, let me know what you think and tell me about your Clexa related daydreams.


End file.
